


five thousand, four hundred, and seventy-five days

by benwvatt



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Episode: s04e22 Crime and Punishment, F/M, Season 4 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-11
Updated: 2017-06-11
Packaged: 2018-11-12 16:42:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11165877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/benwvatt/pseuds/benwvatt
Summary: He felt ridiculous, clinging onto facts nobody else cared about. Mango yogurt and Captain Latvia and the Funky Cold Medina. Party buses and six-thousand-dollar-hams and Transformers trivia.Jake Peralta never quite leaves; he denies, grieves, bargains, adapts. He misses home; it won't invite him back in.





	five thousand, four hundred, and seventy-five days

There were five thousand, four hundred, and seventy-five days in fifteen years, and Jake Peralta was braced to spend each and every one without anyone he used to know. Rosa Diaz was dragged away to a women’s jail, and Jake couldn’t help but wish she was here with him. All he ever did anymore was stare up at the concrete ceiling, begging for this to just be a bad dream. There were little traces of memories, locked away somewhere in his brain. They couldn’t help but escape when the opportunity presented itself.

Lieutenant Hawkins could do everything in her power to ruin his not-so-pristine reputation. She could trick him into going to Pennsylvania on the guise of a life-changing witness; she could put thirteen million dollars into an account in the Cayman Islands. The only things Jake clung onto in this cement dungeon were his experiences: hazy, old memories he desperately tried to revive. 

Weird, tangential topics. Stupid inside jokes he could barely claim as his own. Mango yogurt and Captain Latvia and the Funky Cold Medina. Party buses and six-thousand-dollar-hams and Transformers trivia. He felt ridiculous, clinging onto facts nobody else cared about. Someday, he pledged, he would leave this rotting place. 

Once in a while, Amy came to visit him. She’d look over her shoulder more times than necessary, never mentioning why, and Jake didn’t want to ask. He figured Sergeant Santiago hated being seen with convict and ex-detective Jake Peralta. A thick glass pane separated the two of them, clutching telephones in one last attempt to talk.

“You know, Charles and Genevieve went through this. She got ten years; he got her out.”

Jake stopped bringing Genevieve up, because the look on Amy’s face was awful.

Amy cut her hair, shoulder-length short. It looked nice, but Jake was too scared to compliment her. It didn’t fit into buns anymore. She started braiding her hair more, in the most insistent, bunched-up, wiry braids Jake had ever seen. During their visits, Amy grabbed at strings of frizzy hair and wove them into each other, trying to waste time, trying to stall. 

They ran out of things to talk about. Jake didn’t want to ask about Rosa. Amy braided her hair more. Jake picked at his clothes or he asked about current events or the _weather,_ for fuck’s sake.

“Are you still living in our apartment?”

Jake didn’t think any answer would make him feel better.

“I moved out. I couldn’t afford the rent in our old place,” Amy admitted.

“Makes sense,” Jake said, looking at the ground. “Sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. Any one of us could’ve been working that case.”

“Yeah, and any one of us could’ve suggested going to Pennsylvania.”

Amy was silent.

“Well, I walked right into that one, ” she admitted.

“Hey, I was framed. I _walk right into_ tons of stuff.”

Jake didn’t have to look behind him to know a warden was glaring.

“How’s Charles?” Jake asked. He couldn’t ask about anyone else. Gina was pregnant. Holt was probably blaming himself for not filing a report. Rosa was who-knows-where serving her fifteen years.

“He’s good. He, Genevieve and Nikolaj made you this card.”

Amy pressed a piece of paper to the glass. There was a messy drawing of a truck and a police badge on the cover.

“Wow, Nikolaj is pretty good at art.”

“Charles drew that,” said Amy, trying not to laugh.

“Don’t tell him I said that.”

“You sure?”

“Fuck it, it’s been so long, just tell him. I doubt he’ll be mad.”

“Jake, he'll be fine. The man insists on watching _Die Hard_ every weekend in your memory.”

“Oh, and you don’t?” Jake tried to hide his jealousy. He would give anything to watch _Die Hard_ again. He tried to watch it in his head, as if he were still ten, but that was never the same.

“I may have joined him for a few sessions,” Amy conceded.

“Sessions? There are _five_ of them, Ames.”

“Okay, we have movie marathons in your honor.”

Jake blushed.

“Your hair looks really good, Amy. Sorry I didn’t say so a while ago, when you got it cut.”

“Thanks, babe. I know it’s always braided and coily, but your compliment’s still appreciated. I figured you didn’t notice.”

“I did notice. I just … wanted to talk about other stuff. More important stuff. We only have so long, you know.”

“I know,” Amy said, her voice shaking a little.

“I might as well ask, Ames. Have you talked to Rosa at all?”

Amy bit her lip nervously.

“Yeah, she hates living in a women’s prison. She misses her knives and her motorbike and, you know, the precinct. A lot.”

“She’s not the only one.” 

God, Jake wanted to cry.

“It’s not the same without you two. Captain Holt sits in his office and plays his classical music too loudly. Terry just pushes it all away, keeping himself busy with cases.”

“And you?” Jake wondered.

“I made Sergeant, you know, but I don’t know whether or not I’m leaving the precinct.”

“Do you want to leave? Is the Nine-Nine even the same anymore?”

“No and no.”

The warden stood up, mouthed ‘you weren’t framed’ to Jake, and opened the door. 

“Sorry, lovebirds, but your time’s up. See you next time, ma’am.”

With that, Amy left. Jake could tell she was trying not to cry. Over time, the warden came to know Amy as ‘Santiago’, ‘Sarge’, and eventually ‘Captain’, but he never changed his mind about Jake and Rosa’s conviction.

Neither did the courts, evidently.


End file.
